


Unabashed

by Minikitkatgirl



Category: The X-Files, The X-Files RPF
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Sexual Tension, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-03 00:55:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15808038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minikitkatgirl/pseuds/Minikitkatgirl
Summary: David reflects on the events at day two of Wizard World Chicago 2018.





	Unabashed

**Title:** Unabashed  
**Author:** [gillovny-confessions](http://gillovny-confessions.tumblr.com) on Tumblr  
**Pairing:** David Duchovny/Gillian Anderson  
**Rating:** R-ish (because Gillian’s sweary mouth and some references)  
**Disclaimer:** Not real (probably), no defamation of character or assertions about the proclivities of the real DD and GA intended.  
**Summary:** David reflects on the events at day two of Wizard World. Inspired by this picture:  


 

“Get over here, Gillian.”

He hadn’t meant to be so bold. Bold for him, anyway. 

A fan had brought a baseball bat to one of their photo ops, and David quickly noticed the weariness on Gillian’s face. He couldn’t resist, though. Nearly twenty years had passed since that episode, and he still remembered directing her like it was yesterday. How the dust kicked up as the night wore on, and even when they were on take god-knows-what, Gillian still sparkled. 

Sparkled for him.

David grabbed the bat and positioned himself in front of the backdrop, Gillian following suit moments later. He tried not to laugh as she fumbled with her hands, too annoyed with him to recreate the moment precisely. She settled for placing her hands over his, smiling gamely at the camera as his arms enveloped her, petite thing that she was. David registered the warmth of her body, quietly pleased at how perfectly she fit against his chest.

He knew Gillian was more built for these events than he was. The long hours, the repeat questions, the bad food all prickled him, until that brief moment when he got to stand across from her and just _be_.

Because of her, it was almost worth it.

David went back to the hotel a few hours later, hungry and desperately in need of a shower. Half the elevators in the lobby were broken, creating serpentine lines leading up to the rest. He didn’t hesitate to head toward the stairs, which he liked better anyway. Maybe it was the New Yorker in him, but walking always felt more natural, even if you didn’t have a destination. It would also give him time to think.

_I do that too much already_ , he sighed, ignoring the buzzing phone in his pocket that he knew was yet another missed call from Monique. 

She’d come with him to Chicago, of course. It had been her idea, but David didn’t object. He couldn’t bring Brick because the hotel didn’t allow pets, and after a long day, the last thing he wanted to return to was an empty room. And though he’d never admit it, deep down he hoped for a reaction of some kind. Something in a look, or in a text with way too many emojis, from–

Gillian.

A twelfth-floor door squeaked open and clicked shut above him, and he heard a footstep on the stairs, and there she was.

_I guess we do think alike sometimes._

“Going down?” he asked, grandly gesturing a hand toward the many flights below.

“You wish.” Gillian snorted, moving to the stairwell landing at the same time he did so that they were face-to-face. Equal.

He could tell she wasn’t at all surprised he’d taken the stairs, or that they’d run into each other while going in opposite directions.

“Guess you’re not feeling like elevating.”

“I hate the fucking things. The ones in this place smell like shoe polish.”

A little smile curved up the corner of his lips. He couldn’t remember seeing anyone in that hotel who’d worn shoes that would necessitate polish, but it didn’t matter. That was Gillian. Super sniffer of all things, including bullshit.

She’d changed her clothes for the evening, and he presumed she was on her way to dinner. The black dress she had on was simple but made perfectly for her body. 

“Did I embarrass you today?” Gillian wasn’t one for beating around the bush. David knew immediately what she was talking about and leaned against the wall.

“Those questions…” 

“I know! _Fuck…_ ” she giggled slightly, one hand wrapped around the necklace resting on her collarbone. 

“And no, you didn’t.” His shirt raised as he briefly stretched his arms, and he noticed Gillian’s eyes flicker downward in appreciation at the hint of his exposed stomach.

It was never she who he was embarrassed by. The silliness of the whole thing sometimes did it, or his own discomfort at being intensely looked at by so many people who had no idea who he was. Not her, though.

Gillian was the source of something, but it wasn’t embarrassment. 

His phone chose then of all times to vibrate again, and David vaguely remembered that Monique had gone to the hotel spa for some kind of mani-pedi deal, and that he was supposed to meet her there before going to dinner. He pulled the phone from his pocket, if for no other reason than to turn it off.

Gillian nodded toward the offending device. “Is that…”

“Sorry…” he mumbled. “I told her I’d come get her for dinner.”

“Hmm. I didn’t know they had a daycare here.” She grinned widely and moved closer to him, narrowing the space between them.

David vividly remembered her texting him after news of the relationship got out. A whole day’s worth of on-and-off baby and bottle emojis, followed by avocados next to eggplants, and ending in a hand-with-a-raised-middle-finger emoji. 

He’d expected nothing less.

“Very funny.” 

“I have panties older than her, for god’s sake.” 

_The purple silk ones?_ David wondered, almost out loud. They were the ones she’d worn the first time they’d fooled around, and had gone from being on her body to stuffed in his mouth in record time. _Talk about imposing a gag order…_

He played it cool instead.

“Yeah, yeah…” 

Gillian gripped the sides of the thin sweater over her dress, pulling tightly. She was always cold, and the stairwell was far from hospitable. Instinctively, David reached for her, pulling her against his chest and rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

“Better?”

She murmured something he couldn’t hear, but he enjoyed the hum of her voice and the vibrations it sent through his sternum. Gillian looked up at him and tilted her head as he lowered his, the wet pinkness of her lips too alluring to resist. 

The kiss was soft and slow, both their mouths opening just enough to allow a slip of tongue, heat rising between them in familiar waves. His groin twitched almost predictably, and she deepened the kiss, moving a hand up to thread in his hair, pulling on it. David gasped roughly, trying and failing to hold on to what little reserve he had in her presence. Soon he was fully hard, his dick tenting the front of his jeans, pressing into her stomach. Gillian broke the kiss then, moving just far away enough from him to admire her handiwork with a satisfied smirk. 

“Better.” 

—-

They ended up necking in the stairwell for a good thirty minutes, until Gillian’s phone rang and scared the shit out of both of them.

She attempted to fix her tousled hair with one hand while holding the phone with the other, making some excuse to the person on the other end about being recognized by fans in the lobby and stopping to sign autographs. David ran his fingers through his own hair, trying not to look too disheveled. Gillian hung up then and laughed at him. 

“I think the hair’s the least of your worries.” 

His brow furrowed in confusion, and Gillian pulled up the camera on her phone to snap a picture of the small but noticeable purple hickey she’d left on his neck.

She burst into a full-on giggle fit when she showed it to him.

“Oh, great…” He knew this wasn’t going to go over well.

”You’re welcome, David Duchovny.” 

They kissed once more, and he hated how much he could feel the disappointing necessity of the real world. 

“See you later.” Gillian turned to continue down the stairs, and David pulled away from the wall. He smirked as he felt a parting smack on the butt for good measure from Gillian. Silently, he willed his persistent hard-on to go down before Monique noticed. 

As it turned out, it didn’t matter, because she’d already left the spa when he got there. 

_Oh, shit…_

He remembered his phone and turned it back on then, only to be met with a barrage of irritated girlfriend texts.

// _Waiting for you at the spa. Where r u??_ //  
// _Did you 4get about dinner? Where are you?? CALL ME!_ //  
// _I’m starving and need dinner. Going w/o you. Call me ASAP. And you better not be with her…_ // 

The hotel room was empty when he returned, and for once, he liked it that way.

A bottle of wine procured from room service later, David was stretched out in the over-sized dark blue chair next to the window, his glass resting on the table nearby. 

He wanted to text Gillian, to send her the picture he’d taken of himself jerking off– _why not,_ he reasoned, _everyone needs at least one good shot_ –in the shower because of her. He wanted to embarrass her at dinner, to make her cheeks flush as red and hot as his face had been in the stairwell earlier. He wanted just once to know that he could get to her the way she got to him. 

_Too bold…_

He took out a book and started reading instead, studiously avoiding the phone. A notification dinged moments later, disrupting his concentration, and he sighed as he went to check it.

It was a text from Gillian of the water drops emoji. Nothing else.

David smiled and stood up to close the curtains, glancing down at the twinkling Chicago city lights below. 

Tomorrow was going to be a good day.


End file.
